Rischel (8)
It was pure coincidence.
As usual, dozing off in the rift of the boundary, it happened to glance toward the mortal world below.
Following the tantalizing aroma, its gaze landed on a fairy who looked utterly delicious.
It could swallow her whole in one bite or nibble away bit by bit.
No matter the method, she was sure to taste divine.
"■■■■……."
But 'it' merely smacked its lips and turned away.
It had instinctively realized the truth.
In its current state, it could never devour that mouthwatering human.
No—failure in the hunt would be fortunate.
One wrong move, and it would be the one hunted instead.
"■■■■……."
And so 'it' let out a wistful cry, shaking off its lingering hunger for the prey.
──Or so it should have been.
"So this is where you were."
"■■■■……?"
"Indeed, a monster from the mythic age."
What is this guy?
Why is he in my lair?
But curiosity lasted only a moment.
'It' scowled in irritation and swung its leg.
A casual kick tore through space, crushing him outright.
"■■■■……."
Once the lair fell silent again, 'it' exhaled a leisurely cry.
"Quite the temper."
But peace was fleeting.
Sudden agony rattled its mind, wrenching a scream from 'it'.
"■■■■■……!"
"A rare encounter. I'll lend a hand to your dreams."
"■■■■■……!"
As the repulsive sensation burrowed into its brain, 'it' howled in torment. When the pain finally subsided, it glared at him with fury.
"Don't be so angry."
"■■■……!"
"I merely gave you the power you lacked."
"■■■■……?"
"How does it feel? Now you can achieve what you desire, no?"
The intruder turned his gaze beyond the boundary.
Yes—to the very prey that had made 'it' drool moments ago.
"Ah, don't worry. I won't interfere with your hunt. Not 'me,' anyway."
With that, he tore through the boundary and vanished.
Once his presence faded from the lair, 'it' curled up once more, resuming its languid pose.
"■■■■……."
Its slow cry echoed softly, eyes still fixed in one direction.
Not yet. The time wasn't ripe.
It would bide its moment for a surer chance.
That was 'its' way of hunting.
"■■■■……."
And so 'it' lay still, breath held, waiting patiently.
──To hunt the fairy brimming with stellar energy.
The Knights of the Round Table.
A martial order of twelve knights, led by Queen Arthur herself.
Only the most honorable were permitted to sit at the round table symbolizing their fellowship.
Skill, loyalty, and chivalry.
All three virtues had to be embodied perfectly for that exalted seat.
Yet contrary to image, the Round Table held no real authority.
Its prestige as Rischel's finest knights inspired awe from all citizens, and even fellow knights aspired to join. Within Rischel, their influence was immense.
Indeed, the members included wandering knights unbound to any order, even a mage who wasn't a knight at all.
They shared only the honorific title, each holding diverse positions.
Thus, full assemblies were exceedingly rare, to the point rumors spread that they gathered only in wartime crises.
──Yes, that had always been the case.
After sparring with her master, Gawain headed to the council chamber at Arthur's summons.
"Oh, Sir Gawain."
"Sir Tristan."
A warm voice drew Gawain's eyes to the woman approaching from the opposite hall.
His gaze flicked briefly to her ample bosom before snapping up to meet her eyes.
"Heading to the council chamber too, Sir Tristan?"
"Yes. Her Majesty summoned me."
"I see. Has she called the entire Round Table?"
"Probably. The banquet's soon, after all."
"Hmm... Perhaps she has some preemptive instructions for us."
They fell into step together, her long green braid swaying with each stride.
"Hey, it's Gawain and Tristan."
"Sir Kay."
"Hello, Sir Kay."
As they walked, they encountered a redheaded knight by the chamber doors.
A quick exchange of nods, and they entered together without a word.
"Whoa~!"
Kay burst into exclamation upon seeing the chamber's interior.
"What the heck? The whole Round Table's here?"
Grinning ear to ear, she strode in, unable to hide her excitement at the knights gathered around the massive round table.
"Hey hey! Is war breaking out or something...?!"
"Quiet down, Sir Kay. Take a seat already."
A knight with light brown hair snapped coldly at the rowdy Kay.
"Don't be so harsh, sis. All of us together is pretty rare, right?"
"Good heavens! Even Bedivere...!"
"...And you're saying that after seeing this?"
"Umm..."
"Come on, let's sit."
"Eek! Wait, Gawain!"
Kay, flirting with the two brown-haired girls, was grabbed by the scruff and plopped into her seat.
With every chair filled, a knight rose from beside the impassive Arthur.
The girl with dull gray hair to her waist puffed up her petite frame, mimicking a solemn expression.
But only briefly.
Realizing the high table blocked her view, she clambered atop her chair.
"Ahem! With the Round Table mostly assembled, let's get to business."
All eyes turned to her as she began reading from her paper.
"As you know, the welcoming banquet for our state guests begins in three hours."
"This is strictly a welcome for the guests, so Her Majesty requests the Round Table maintain decorum and observe minimal boundaries."
"Especially Merlin, Lancelot, and Gareth—approach to the guests is forbidden."
BAM—!
A thunderous crash shook the chamber.
"I... object."
"...Same here."
"Wh-why just us forbidden!?"
The trio shot up in unison, glaring daggers at the girl.
"We demand reasons, yeah."
"......"
"We want reasons! Sir Bedivere!"
Under the intense scrutiny, Bedivere groaned lowly before hiding behind her paper.
"Ugh...! Isn't it obvious?! Remember what you did in the past!"
A sharp retort flew back from behind the paper.
"...I can't accept that. I'm innocent."
With Lancelot's unshaken voice, Percival spoke calmly from Arthur's side.
"32 counts of trespassing, 71 attempted rapes, 103 solicitations of adultery. And you call that innocent?"
"Not adultery solicitation. Affair solicitation. I demand correction."
"Same damn thing, idiot—!"
"Besides, he wasn't married, so not even an affair technically. No adultery established."
"You... crazy bitch......"
Percival clutched her neck and retreated from the airtight rebuttal. Bedivere seized the opening.
Her face faintly flushed at the blunt talk, she rustled her paper and turned to Merlin.
"A-anyway! Lancelot aside. Merlin, got nothing to say?"
The sinisterly smirking witch shifted slowly.
Her tottering posture sent her disheveled black hair swaying, her loose robes barely containing her overwhelming bust.
""Tch...!""
Several flat-chested knights grimaced in unison.
"I-I'm innocent too. Nothing to be ashamed of."
Bedivere narrowed her eyes at the quavering voice, listing crimes point by point.
"101 sleep spells, 96 charms, 63 confinements. Truly innocent?"
"N-no hypnosis spells. I'm innocent."
"...No brainwashing, so you're innocent?"
"Y-yeah. I respected their will, at least."
"How do sleep, charm, and confinement respect—?!"
"Eek...! B-but those three at least let 'em talk while sane!"
"Charm isn't sane at all!"
"N-no! Charms vary! At my level, I can entice while they stay compos mentis... Ah!"
Merlin slumped after her slip-up. Bedivere rubbed her throbbing temples and eyed the next target.
"...So, Sir Gareth. Anything to say?"
"I'm innocent, honestly!"
The cute girl resembling Gawain slammed the table defiantly at Bedivere's sigh-tinged question.
"I just followed Master Mu-geuk out of light fandom!"
"Does this fool not get that's the problem...?"
"Wh-what's that mean?!"
"Your stalking's way over the line—!"
Bedivere roared, making Gareth flinch and whimper a defense.
"N-not stalking! I always stayed within bounds..."
"24/7 surveillance of every move! That's not stalking?! You even tailed him to the bathroom!"
And that wasn't all.
Gareth's stealth was elite.
She'd infiltrated even his bedroom undetected.
Of course, she'd been caught and booted immediately after spotting him asleep—but she alone in Rischel had managed it.
"Th-that—!"
"Anyway! Those three are banned! No objections, rebuttals, or appeals! Got it?!"
The trio collapsed at Bedivere's ruthless verdict.
"Y-Your Majesty......"
"......"
Merlin's last hope, Queen Arthur, averted her gaze. Defeated, she hung her head blankly.
Meanwhile, Gareth gnawed her nails, scheming.
Banned hurts, but not insurmountable.
Caught is crime; unseen is art, right?
Time for my honed stealth to shine!
She steeled herself to defy the royal order secretly.
At the same instant, Lancelot muttered endlessly.
"His patterns mean he won't linger at the banquet. He'll head to the left terrace for a break. Ambush there, feign coincidence."
If they couldn't approach, make him come to them!
Such insight was child's play for the Round Table's top knight.
"Now, next item. The main reason for assembling... Lately, the atmosphere west of Rischel has..."
As the agenda shifted naturally,
the banned trio awaited the banquet, each lost in schemes.